Fantastic Four
by youknowitsmsrae
Summary: If there is good, there will be evil. Pitch has been here more than a millennium, and has never wanted sweet revenge as badly as he does now. The Man in the Moon decides it's time to bring together all 8 Guardians: the First Four, and the Big Four - the spirits of the Earth. If it's a war Pitch wants, Manny has chosen his soldiers proudly, so a war he shall get. ON HIATUS.
1. PROLOGUE I: LET DOWN YOUR HAIR

**FANTASTIC FOUR  
youknowitsmsrae**

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_A/N: Hello there you guys! Summer here, and, well, this is my story, based off the blog I ran on Tumblr: ask-thenewestguardians! I still pop in from time to time over there, for those who wonder, but I've taken a break from it for a little while because of personal issues going on that need my direct attention before Tumblr._

_Therefore, without further ado, this is the story of the Fantastic Four._

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_QS: Where there is good, there is always evil, and where evil has been vanquished, it can always come back. Unfortunately, not all Happy Ever After's have one final closure, like we believed for our beloved Lost Princess, Mr. Overland, the Dragon Tamer of Berk and High Queen of the Lands. From the far reaches of the Earth and time, something dark has been brewing for over thousands of years, and unlike anything that has ever been fought before._

_The Man in the Moon has known it was coming, just like his counterpart Pitch, and has made a deal with the Sun in the Sky to gain Rapunzel, saved Merida from a fate of being forever invisible, has watched out for a cursed Hiccup, and gave Jack Frost the position of Guardian, all so that in the present day, they would serve him right, and come together to fix what evil is breaking the Earth down the middle._

_The question is: can the Fantastic Four _really _do it? Or will they die trying?_

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_CS: The tragic story of how Princess Rapunzel became a Guardian._

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**PROLOGUE I: LET DOWN YOUR HAIR**

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"She's_ nuts_!" A plump, young baker's wife bellowed out in strangling fury, raising her gleaming wet pitchfork high, higher, highest in the air, waving it around like a sword leading the way for battle. The other meaty, gripping hand was clutching a silver dough roller, still covered in fluffy, white baking powder. It flickered in the extremely dangerous lights of the falling foreign kingdom.

"The Princess is a _freak_!" A wrinkling, elder man called louder than any of the others, yanking his arm back exceedingly, only then launching his torch, aflame, at the broad, beautiful castle's main wooden doors. It only took a moment; the fire seduced and licked the inside of the quite large entry way immediately, making the entire pathway fall apart, down, to ashes and dirt and dust. A beat of tedious engulfment, and the mob gave a horrible battle cry and rushed inside.

Only then, did it begin to pour.

Even Mother Nature was present now, showing how much of a mistake the Kingdom of Corona was making, warning them to stop.

They did not listen.

"Lock her up!" A blonde little boy with a wooden sword rasped through his missing teeth, crawling throughout his father's hairy, large legs to see the commotion of the uproar. "Forever, and ever, and _ever_!"

Rapunzel couldn't help herself.

So floored and flabbergasted by her people, at their dark and utter ruthlessness, their sheer bitterness, her pretty little hands flew up over her mouth to keep herself from absolutely screaming. From where she was skillfully hidden in the shadows of the highest balcony, of the main tier's front, her heart jammed into her throat, pounding like a gong again and again and again. Subconsciously, over her head, she pulled harder on the heavy, wool black cloak's hood, trying to keep herself well kept from the light of the torches and fire red lanterns that burned everything in their path. It made her appear like a shadow, that is, if she wasn't so pale, and shaking like a tree in the swift winter breeze.

"Your Highness," The voice behind her shocked her into a small jump, but she would have no need to fret. It was only her favorite, most trustworthy guard, Charles, who called for her, tightly grabbing onto her forearm. No, not just grabbing onto her arm, but shielding her, as there was a horrible quake, a scream, and he was ducking his arms around her for safety. A shudder in the Kingdom Wall vibrated under their feet, "this way, quickly, please!"

There was no argument, even if she had wanted one. Which, she didn't, and therefore letting him, Rapunzel was silent as her protector yanked her along the paved path, from one burning side of the castle to the next. The Lost Princess restricted and stopped just in the nick-of-time to grab a heavy, dirty frying pan from yet another guard who begged her to take it (he'd had just taken out an astray cook, with a look in his eye that meant he agreed with the mob. They were now completely unsure who was good and who was bad in the castle, and this particular friend wanted the Princess to stay safe. Most of the Royal Protectors still were faithful to the Family).

Whirling around a corner, almost slipping and tripping in horrible puddles of water that poured in through the castle's open hallways every few steps, the frightened, panting brunette Princess ran straight into the one person on this Earth, in this brutal city, she was looking so desperately for.

Had the Prince heard the rumors? The truth? The lies? The _screaming?_

"Rapunzel." Eugene was so rushed, so entirely without time, and for this, he grabbed onto her, forcing her into a tight hug. Unlike the Princess, he was all-knowing of the fate down the road, rather than she, who knew nothing at all. She had no clue what was about to happen to her. If she did, for sure she would be kicking and screeching and, in reality, would simply just never, _ever _let it happen. Now, because of this, he only had a couple seconds to be with her; if this was it, _this _was it.

His fingers only lightly grazed her face, tracing her jaw, and she only felt his gentle farewell kiss for a split of a moment. But before he could whisper his love for her in her ear and make his promise that he'd break her out soon, he was furiously grabbed from behind by a man in the red uniform and pushed up on a soaking wet marble railing. His breath was knocked right out of him, and though he began to fight back, he was hushed down by a guard who told him: "by direct order of the King and Queen of Corona, Flynn Rider was to report to the Mess Hall for Battle Strategy and Crowd Control." Something else was muttered between the two that Rapunzel could no longer here, and whatever it may be, had calmed Eugene down enough to sigh and give up.

Flynn said no words to his wife, but his eyebrows pinched together in regret. They were more than apologetic. They were more than saddened.

They, his eyes, were heartbroken.

Flynn Rider was heartbroken as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

On the other hand, Rapunzel was entirely different. Her normal, calm, quite quiet composure had transferred and snapped into little pieces. She was acting like a Greek Fury, fighting and clawing, especially when Charles was yanking her onward without her consent. She tried to wiggle free, snarling and biting, and she even swung the frying pan once or twice, but all she got from it was more scratches on her _own_ body than his, and bruises from slipping around on the tiled, dirty, damp floor, drenching herself in disgusting, grimy water. She was up against two well-trained, well-known, well-loving and good spirited, let alone _muscled, _guards, who'd taught her almost everything she knew.

Before she could whack one of them across the face, the cooking pot was dropped to the floor, forgotten. They had to take it away from her.

"Eugene -" She struggled for him now, arm outstretched in his direction, but he was gone, and they'd reached their final destination. A flight of stairs later, a key lock and a soft, sorry push into a Tower on the High Side of the Castle later, and Rapunzel realized her dilemma. She realized why her husband had looked so crushed for her. Why she had no previous knowledge on where she was going. Why no one would tell her.

"_Mother, no_!" She was suddenly sobbing, fingers prying at the door that slammed shut behind her, keeping the fair Princess locked away like a bird in a cage. This was a tower, the tower, the _highest_ tower in the kingdom, and she would remain there for however long it would take for the mob to calm down. What sickened her was that on the other side of the bars, in the tiny window dividing her from the outside world, were her real parents. Her mother, the Queen, had crystal tears gleaming in her eyes. Her voice broke and shivered as she spoke.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Rapunzel. Returning home, only to be locked up again." Rapunzel protested like an animal, fists banging on the doors. She begged her father to help her, but he couldn't look at her. He had to leave. He couldn't watch his daughter in her state - so broken, and she hadn't even been locked in yet. They still were struggling with the padlock that was drenched and rusty with rain. "This isn't what we want for you. But you're not safe in the outside world."

The _irony._

Mother Gothel had told her the _exact_ same thing, except this time, it was the truth.

Or had it been the truth all along?

After all, the woman had been right. They all wanted her dead, her head on a platter, _gone_.

"When everything blows over, we'll let you out."

The brunette's heart hammered in her throat as she gazed down her family.

Did they not know? It would never blow over. The mob was ready to kill her without hesitation, would kill the _family _without hesitation if Rapunzel wasn't put down.

After only a couple months of her reign, the people had completely changed their minds on the bubbling blonde. At first, they welcomed home their Princess with the widest of open arms, her Prince included, let them wed, and there was even rumor that she was with child. But the Kingdom was easily fooled and switched by a soothsayer, and found her random explosions into song, random nervous laughs or tears, how she spoke with animals, all signs of witchcraft - or just plain crazy. She befriended murdering men, and used to have hair that gleamed like the sun when she sang. She was pretty and delicate, sure, but they also learned of her strength, of her brutality when she had a mind set, and called her a threat.

It would _never _blow over.

The Princess knew that. Something in her mother's eyes said she knew that too. The guards looked to the Queen in shock for the fib they all _knew_ it was.

"Until then," She continued to lie to her daughter's face, strong chin pointed upwards, "you must stay here."

"_Please, mother, don't do this!_"

Rapunzel's voice was lost on the whispering wind. However, even if it had been an echo that carried for miles, all the guards were absent, except for one who was raised hard-of-hearing, who was glad to have a task he'd be perfect for. After all, now stationed in front of her door, he didn't have to hear the heart shattering noise of the Princess weeping her eyes out. Quite honestly, no one did, or would.

The thunderstorm raged like a monster, a beast.

Corona had unleashed a _beast._

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It took a couple days and nights, a lot of bribery and lies, but the mob finally left the Castle.

Yet, nothing got better in the Kingdom.

Mother Nature was more than livid with the men and women of the Lantern City, who had locked up such an innocent precious flower, and brought non-stop thunderstorms for them to loose all their crops in. The Sun was so disgusted that her daughter, her magic baby girl born from her life, was locked away in the shadows once again that she did not shine for them. Rapunzel's own birth parents wept until they couldn't anymore, and stood quiet, waiting, wishing, _praying._ Eugene did everything he could to get the release, but to no avail. He couldn't even bust her out if he tried (which, he had, more than anyone but himself would understand).

On the fourth evening of her imprisonment, Rapunzel would have dug her way out until her nails were gone if it meant she'd get out. But she knew that wouldn't work, and therefore disregarded that thought.

Finally, when all else failed, she resort to her faith.

She resort to her roots. The one thing that would be strongest in her sea of darkness.

"I," She began, yet having to stop and swallow down. Her throat was sore and closed from all the yelling and sobbing, and she hadn't used her vocals in the longest of times, "I w-was born from the sun, I know."

She was softly leaning out her window now, fingers digging into the wood to keep her steady. Those wondrous green, doe-eyes that once were full of life and curiosity and golden sunshine were dull, worn down. They were looking straight at the Moon in the Sky, the orb vibrant and white and beautiful. Legend spoke that there was a Man up there, just like a Woman in the Sun that hadn't shined for her, or her misled Kingdom. If she could not reach the Sun, she would talk to the Moon instead. "I-I know I shouldn't speak to you; we come from separate Fables of Old. But there's only so many options -" She sniffed a little, tears welding in her eyes yet again.

Oh, could she just run out of them already? It would do her so much good.

No, they fell freely, and she brushed them away with her fingertips.

"All I ever wanted was to be free, and I'm trapped up in a tower once more."

Then, she began to pray, silently, mentally, emotionally, physically, her heart whispering a beg to the Sky. She began to ask for help within her thoughts, lost in her words.

What she didn't know, was that somewhere close behind her, a whisk in the center of her dark cellar hold was such a strange sight to see: out of the center rug made of strings beaded red, whirled an entity of black smoke, silently slipping up from the floor. It rose and morphed and rose and changed and rose and finally, an outline had formed, just barely visible in the moonlight that creaked through the rafters. Whatever it was, it was made entirely of dark, meshing sand, forming the shadow of a curvy, tall woman. But there was no face - except for a wicked grin that looked to twisted to simply be human.

If only Rapunzel had seen the grin, she would know it by heart.

She'd seen it for 18 years.

"Please, let me be free." The brunette leaned out just a bit more, as if the Moon didn't hear her the first time, and that maybe perhaps it would help if she was closer. Mother Nature even moved the clouds just for the Princess, but by then, there was no use. It was too late.

"_Your highness, he cannot help you."_

Rapunzel's lightly closed eyes sprung open in astonishment, and she gasped through her teeth, turning on her heels, searching the cellar for the voice. It hadn't sounded real - like several different strands laced together in one bind. The growl of a bear, a screeching noise, a sensual woman and fear itself, soaking together. Each voice whirled into one throaty gurgle that pushed the limits of her mind into confusion.

Yet Lost Princess lived and breathed hope, even if it made no sense.

Was someone here to _finally_ let her go?

"_But,_" The sand shadow suddenly vanished to the ground in a layer, then twirled and flicked across the floor like a snake in attack mode, inching closer, closer, _closet _to Rapunzel. It hovered over her in an embodiment of a man now, tall, lanky, strong and confident. Rapunzel's terrified eyes grew double size when yellow mirrors pierced her in the soul like a stab to her heart. She couldn't possibly breathe, for fear choked her around the neck with it's invisible hands, "_your wish is my command._"

And then, she was falling from the open window, gravity pulling her towards the damp Earth. Strangely resembling Mother Gothel's final moments, Rapunzel's heavy winter cloak was fluttering around her, like dark wings, as if the angel had fallen from Heaven itself.

Mother Nature turned her head away, unable to watch.

The Sun instantly cried for her lost daughter.

The Moon made a deal with Death, and promised the Sun he would take good care of her.

And then -

_"The Princess is dead!_" A guard bellowed in pure anguish, falling to his knees next to the lifeless Rapunzel, pulling her up in his arms like a rag doll. "Remember it here: the greed of the Kingdom on a Flower so Sweet has killed the Woman hardly that." Disgustingly, some cheered in happiness, now truly ready to go back to their normal schedules. But, those true of heart, those others who cared, swarmed the girl to get a look and gasp in horror for their fallen future Queen. A mother of two who still believed in the child's gift had begun to bawl, cradling her twins. An old cobbler bowed his head. The Queen screamed a horrible shriek, fainting in Rapunzel's sobbing Father's arms.

It was a gruesome scene.

As a final gift to her brave, heroic daughter who shouldn't have died so soon, The Sun gave her one thing back: her powers, her hair. She would receive it in the next world, in a different time. But in this reality, beginning at the dark roots of her hair, the tiny fibers of her brunette locks beamed a bright light of yellow. The stretched, and etched, drew and slew, curling around the Lost Princess and fixing broken bones, her heartbeat and spine, restoring the 70 feet of blonde tangles that people stepped out of the way to see. Her purple dress faded into green, to match the grass she lay in.

And the wind, a friend of a Jack Frost who happened to stumble by that next day to hear the news the world would read all about, sang a Incantation meant for a Queen who would never be.

When the last notes dimmed, her lullaby over, so did she. Rapunzel, shocking the kingdom onlookers, shimmered like gold, like a new coin, turned into a bright, beautiful light, and crossed from the visible land, to a story.

She was gone, vanished into thin air.

Yet, just then, her heart began to beat.

"_Am I dead?_" She whispered to herself, just herself, throat hoarse from under-use. She expected no reply, as there was no one around, however one came, and not from who she would expect. Unlike a man who'd been born into this life 100 years previous to her (one she'd meet soon enough, a Mr. Jackson Overland Frost), she remembered everything: from the fall, to the pain, then the silence, the terrifying scream of her Mother, the funeral music.

And after that?

Nothing but the push and pull of the world, and the whispers of spirits granting her passage to her destiny.

_Yes, child. _There was no mistaking that the voice had come from the Moon - there was only one voice in the Universe that could sound like that, the Man in the Moon being it. _And, then yet, no, child. You are no longer alive, but you're far from death._

"Did you kill me?" Like a pixie, she allowed herself to stand from her crouched stance in a graceful, dance-like move, noticing the strangest thing: her hair that curled on the forest floor where she'd fallen, and hung from trees, around a log, in a tiny pond - all 70 feet of it was stretched out across the hills she laid in. She almost didn't believe it until she pulled on a good, tight piece, and felt the stretching pain in her skull. It burned for a moment, but then dimmed into a cool release, a normal feeling she'd almost forgotten. Almost.

Slowly bringing it in like a fishing line, breath hitched, she felt that familiar feeling of warmth between her fingertips. Continuing to reel it up and around her arms, when it was all around her, she took a soft seat on it's plush qualities.

Gazing at the orb in the sky, she waited for an answer.

_No, child. I did not end your life, nor did the Sun. However, I did save you from Death's grip._

"Why haven't I moved on?" She tilt her head to the side from where she rest her chin on her hand, eyebrows knitting a pattern on her forehead together. "Why did you keep me here?" There was no way she could hide the sadness and remorse in her tone - Death had been right next to her. He told her it would be an easy trip - that her purity would bring her prosperity in the next life. But then he was gone, and she awoke to find out she was still alive, but not still alive, and was having a legitimate conversation with the Man in the Moon.

_You have moved on to a new you. You'll be the light in a dark time to come in the distant future._

"I don't understand." She clawed her dress lightly, then put her head in her hands, nervous habits she couldn't help but have. She would have made a joke about them dying hard, but it was positively _not _the time. "How can I be light when there is only the dark? How can I be dead, yet so alive? I feel my heartbeat, and have to breathe, but I remember the sobbing at my own funeral and felt the heartbreak of my family."

_You will be the light in a dark time to come, young one._ The Man in the Moon repeated._ You are unique, lost Princess Rapunzel of Corona. You must follow a destiny. The path is yours._

Rapunzel didn't want to choose her path. She didn't want to follow her destiny. Not now. Now, she wanted answers, and her family, and her husband, and her Kingdom.

She cried for her long gone past.

_Do not weep for your forgotten life, Rapunzel._

She sniffed, gazing at the orb that hung in the Sky.

"Than what should I cry for?" She whispered in depression. The wind carried the message to outer space.

_Do not cry, period. Instead, dearest spirit, shine bright for the future._

It took a moment, a real long moment for her to consider it, but she did see a point to his madness. Perhaps it would all be okay. That was all it took, too, for her soft smile was an acceptance.

She shimmered into the sky like a bolt of lightning. She was a daughter of the Moon now.


	2. PROLOGUE II: ALMOST EVERYTHING

**FANTASTIC FOUR  
youknowitsmsrae**

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_A/N: Hello again everyone! First order of business: thank you all for so much feedback on the first chapter already! It honestly means so much to me, and because of it, here's the next chapter! Haha, it's not the longest thing ever, seeing how we all know Jack's pre-Guardian history._

_**WARNING:**_ _if you've already read my One-Shot: Almost Everything, you've actually already seen this before. Haha. It was slightly written with this story in mind anyways, so Chapter 2 is completed._

_Therefore, expect Chapter 3 _quite _soon!_

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_CS: Jackson Overland was chosen to be a Guardian for a reason: this was it._

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**PROLOGUE II: ALMOST EVERYTHING**

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Jackson Overland Frost could do almost everything.**  
**

That is, remind, if the time and circumstances were right.

The truth was: they didn't grow up in the most fancy or sophisticated villages of their time. Nor were they poor, either - but just about a smaller, nice medium of an area that could be classified as the middle class of the day. The nights were warm and exciting by a fire in a wonderful little cottage, where many stories and adventures were told of brave knights, vikings, and bears, oh my. They each had soft, warm beds to curl into for the next nightly dream the Sandman would craft. They had sturdy clothing on their backs, food in their stomachs. A beautiful, shimmering lake in the summer that turned into a rink of happiness in the winter just outside their window.

It was perfect the way it was, and no one in the Frost family would change it for the world.

Jackson, more known as Jack Frost these days, was a fool at the time. Not an idiot, but a fool. A joker, a trickster, a smile to everyone's face. His stories made his younger sister laugh in glee, clapping and beg for more. His sudden jumps out of no where, followed by the ever-surprising "_Boo!"_ made her scream, smack him once and pout. But then she'd giggle and everything would be right when she was launched on his back, twirling around in the air. Mr. Frost quickly found out as she grew up that his world revolved around his little sister: if she was happy, he was happy.

So he did whatever he could for her as she got older.

Providing her with extra food when she was just a tad more hungry, making her days brighter with a song he hummed while he patched up some of their clothing, playing games with her until she fell asleep before bed. He was a joking teenager himself, remind you, so sure, they sometimes argued over little things, or got annoyed with one another like most siblings do. She was no saint - she had a temper, that one.

But at the end of the day, Jackson Overland Frost would do anything for the little brunette who looked up to him like he was the world.

He'd even give up his life.

There were times where some situations were taken far too out of hand, and this was no exception.

She was crying, though it was so cold, her hot tears dried on the side of her face, practically evaporating into thin air. She dared not move a muscle or she'd go under without a doubt, and they both knew it. She could see the water underneath the ice sloshing around - oh, it mocked them.

"Jack," She croaked out, looking to the boy who had a pair of horrified, brown eyes gazing right back. He kept her glance, however, even when his bare feet pad against the ice, burning despite the dropping temperature. He was human, after all. It was agonizing to saunter across the frozen lake. She hardly noticed as he slipped off his ice skates slowly, throwing them off to the side moments earlier. All she heard was the cracking ice. "I'm scared." She whined, heart beating in her throat instead of her chest. She was so, so, so _very _afraid.

"I know, I know." Jack agreed. Honestly, he was too. This was no game now, no joke. This was real. "But you're gonna be alright." He promised her, sealing the deal as he pushed pass the pain in his feet. It was as if the ice was already seeping through him, taking over his veins and skin. "You're not gonna fall in; we're gonna have some fun instead."

A little back in forth went on as time was wasted. He promised he wouldn't let anything happen to her. She called him a liar. He _promised her nothing would happen to her. _She shuffled around.

Jackson Overland Frost was a teen, no, by this point, Jackson Frost was a _man _to his word. He was a man to his word, a man to his sister as he jumped across the ice when their life depended on it, grabbed a long, fallen branch, and yanked her forward away from the spot that shimmered and sunk.

And he kept his promise.

Jackson Overland Frost could do almost everything.

Except save himself.

The ice buckled underneath his feet as she was spun away.

With a final fleeting glance to where his sister cried out, arms outstretched as if to help him, Jack slipped under the waters of his old life, to begin one anew.

_Darkness._


	3. PROLOGUE III: THE SMOKING BOTTLE

**FANTASTIC FOUR  
youknowitsmsrae**

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_A/N: Holy flying fuzzing poodles Batman! **16** reviews already! Thank you_ all _so, so, so, so, so_ _much! It means a ton to me, really. You've seriously made my life 1000% better._

_Therefore, in thanks, here's the next chapter!_

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_CS: Queen Merida would fight for her Kingdom, her family, and her lover, even if it meant making another deal with a witch that would change her life forever._

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**PROLOGUE III: THE SMOKING BOTTLE**

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_Cla-dnk. Cla-dnk. Cla-dnk._

The worn down, broken end of the wooden staff smacked the grown once, twice, a third time, and the ever proud soothsayer fell down to his knees in front of the royal seated high, yet softly in front of him. His arms he threw open wide, and he greeted her Majesty with a grin so wide, all his many missing teeth were visible.

Her ears burned like they were on fire; quite honestly, she_ still_ wasn't used to the sight of her people bowing under her and declaring their undying loyalty as they had once done with her parents. After all, she'd been a High Princess all her life, but only recently, after the untimely passing of her mother and father in battle with the sinister clan of Regimon'd from the Northern Hills, she was forced to take the Kingdom's reign. She'd been trained for this, to be a leader, but no teaching compared to the terror that came with the responsibility of the crown seated comfortably by her side.

She'd hardly had time to grieve her kin before she was told she would take over the lands. She would lead the people now; it was her duty.

"_Aye_! All and one, hear it here, and all hail to thy great Princess Merida!" There was a cry of agreement from her people below her, crowded comfortably to watch her coronation. "Firs' Born of Clan DunBroch, worthy opponent of Mor'du, Ambassador of the Seventh Sea, slaya' of the sinsta' Giant in the West, Daughter of Elinor and Fergus the Great, Master Archer, an' now," the Kingdom's most known teller of tales grabbed the silver laced crown from it's stuffed cushion of velvet as he stood and sauntered to her, "thus presenting, newly councilmen approved: Queen Merida of -"

"_A bear! Stop everything! A bear!_"

Someone bellowed out in anguish, disrupting the final words to make it official, making the man almost drop the priceless crown to the floor. His words catching in his throat, and he caught onto it just in time, fingers hooking to the branches engraved in the sides. The Soothsayer cursed something fierce in Gaelic, and whirled around just the same as everyone else to see an almost criminal interruption.

The doors in the far back had been thrown open, smashing against the walls without regret or haste. The wood broke in half and gathered on the floor. Inward came a league of men, dressed in blood and battle armor, moving and shoving people out of the way to speak to the Lady of In-Charge. Merida, from her spot alone on the High Stage of honor that her, her mother, father, and their ancestors sat upon, narrowed her eyes to size up the main man barging in, to be her greatest knight, homing in from patrol, no doubt.

The redheaded Princess stood, taking her ground.

"What is this?" She wondered, motioning to their blood and grime, fists balling by her sides. "What news of a bear, Biorna?"

"In the meadow, your Highness." He grabbed her fingers softly, and she did not protest, but in fact, clutched his fingers back tightly. Some were entirely shocked at her more the friendly action, and gasped, but she felt no resentment for this touch. She turned her head up to those who didn't approve of a knight holding a Princess's hand. She and Biorna had become quite good friends, if it was allowed to be called that. He was a comfort rock in the pocket of her dress, so to say. "It killed me brother, my Queen." The pain and tears leaked from his voice, but not his face, and strong jawbone that stayed locked. "It's tearing up crops and livestock, and causin' a bloodbath from those who stayed behind. The quicker we hurry, the less death to be had."

"Sound the alarms," She called, stretching voice echoing from wall to wall. There was a fierce battle cry from her people, "however under my command only then you may fir'."

"Understood, my Queen." He gave a luscious soft bow, eyebrows popping up to gaze her down. For his thoughts, and forever would be just his, he found her the most ravishing woman of all time.

Her expression was a hard one, but she gave an apologetic nod for his brother, and they both said a prayer that he rest happy. Her hair, normally tangled and wild, was brushed back and down into a tight ponytail whisked in velvet to her mid-back. Her dress was satin white, held together in golden knots, and her freckled, pale face was ready for anything - even war with a beast.

While he wept silently over his lost, she noticed the streak of blood oozing from his side onto the floor. It was pooling considerably, and she couldn't let him struggle back out there when he swore he'd avenge his fallen.

"I'm not Queen yet." She fixed his statement of her being his everything, and then, when he looked back to her for guidance, she grabbed his face plate from his head. In one movement, she'd taken his sword from it's sheath, his dagger from it's holster, and flipped the face mask on for her own gain. He began to protest her leave to fight, but she pointed to the way of the infirmary for him to bandage his side. "Now, ya've already fought well, me friend. This will be ovah fast, ya know?"

He hesitated for a moment, watching her, and then, without warning, grabbed her by the arm, lifted the face mask, and kissed her.

There moment was over soon, but she promised she'd be back as soon as possible.

Or, so she thought.

"If it wasn't 'is head branded to the front of me fatha's grave," She cried to her lady in arms in exasperation, who, remind you, flipped another dagger around and around, that lodged in the Black Bear's leg. The soon-to-be Queen mewled in frustration, aiming another arrow and missing off to it's left. It was simply as if the bear had some sort of charm upon it that refused death. She'd been hand deep in blood, wrapped in it's matted fur, and he still had yet to break at least a little. The bear was like a log: hollow on the inside, but tough and meaty on the out. And when it moved, there almost appeared to be a trail of wonder-shadow that sifted after it, "if I didn't know that Mor'du was dead, I'd think he was _back_ from tha' clutches."

The strong warrior beside her fell when a paw seemed to drag out of nowhere. Merida whined and choked on a sob, blood spatter drenching her ceremonial dress. With a serial groan of fury, she lunged, lodging onto the arm outstretched long enough to swing onto the bear's back, and drive a knife towards it's heart.

The weapon flew away, as if a string was yanking it across the lawn.

"What the -" She looked at her empty hand, just in shock long enough for the bear to snarl and fling her off towards the forest. She wasn't dead as she collided with the hearth, however, and confusion sunk in as she broke her fall on the grass with an 'oomf'. Her forehead smacked the dirt.

Why hadn't it torn her to pieces?

She'd been careless, for that moment looking back, but it had spared her?

There was no time to waste considering the possibilities.

"Angus, now!" She cawed, and the Mare showed itself from where it had hidden behind a tree. Linking on like a chain, Merida and her horse were one, flying at the bear without hesitation. She twisted her sword around once, ready to attack, red like the crimson of her friends clouding her vision, the shade of her hair, when -

"A _witch_!" The Soothsayer pointed at the woman with her hands out, aimed straight at the animal. Merida immediately came to a stop and turned her and her partner around to look at the female in question. She'd had her fair dealings with witches and warlocks of sort, and sure enough, the ebony haired lady sat comfortably upon a horse, mystic colors of maroon and black swirling above and around her frame. Concentration broken from where she was perched tall upon the back of a horse made of braying dark fur to match the bear, with a _"Yah, Fearling, Ya!_" the bear disappeared into the ground, just a shadow, while the woman rode off towards the dark forest.

Only when she twitched her fingers by her side did Merida and the rest of her people see what was situated behind the rider.

3 identical toddler heads.

"The Princes!" Her lady-in-waiting howled, panting. "She's taken them! The bear: a weak distraction, my Lady!"

_"No._" The Queen-To-Be harped in a bass snarl, and without thinking, took after her brethren. "Angus, faster, _yah!"_

"Your Highness!" Someone called after her, but she was gone before anyone could blink an eye to stop her.

Without a trace, they would never see their pre-Queen again.

"Show ya'self, ya' witch!" Merida yelled, words echoing from tree to tree, slowing her horse long enough to hop off and land in a defensive crouch. Angus brayed and twitched, turning in a circle, looking for his family, just like Princess Merida. They were in a field of Rocks, a clearing filled with pebbles and stones her and her mother had found one day while riding horseback before her death. "I know ya can hear me, and I refuse ta' come any further. Return my kin at once!"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Ah, ah, my dear." The voice sifted from tree to tree sweetly, before landing straight behind her. Merida spun around, and where Angus had been, now this, this _woman _was. "We wouldn't want to harm the poor boys, would we?"

Tumbling out of thin air like smoke, the three little boys who would grow up to be fearless, loving Kings looked to their sister in horror, perplexed, and one might have just had a hunger pain. But it was enough to break her heart; they looked so defenseless for the boys who'd taken out a Giant using wit and sheer instinct, a pile of cow dung and a sac of beans. And they could do nothing but sit there; a magic bind kept their feet on the floor and mouth's gagged shut quietly.

"What's your bargain, she-devil?" Princess Merida murmured when she reached for her family, and only passed through air. They were gone again from her grasp, wrapped up into nothing but smoke and sand, and the witch took a stride forward twice.

Her movements were like a dance, her eyes a smile despite the cruel one she already had. Stricken by what appeared to be everlasting beauty, the curly black hair dripped to her hips, that were covered in satin sashes made of maroon and gold. She was gorgeous, alluring, and dangerous. Like a spider, going in for the kill.

"You're so much more brave since we last met, dear." And for a moment, Merida saw a horrible hag plopping in front of her with a raven of darkness on her shoulder. However now, the only dark was in the woman's eyes when lethargic turned to lustful body shapes, and the raven reformed into a savage bear that growled and barred it's teeth. She simply pet behind it's ear, calming it considerably. "Formal introductions are in order - my name is Lady Gothel, in fact, a witch. I can take on any guise, if you please." She motioned down to herself.

Merida wasn't amused.

"My deal is this, binding with the darkness I serve -" Fingers dancing through the air, a vile was pulled from a cloud of looming shadow around her skull, "drink this, and I'll let them free."

It was a small case, no larger than the herb bottles found in the Kingdom everywhere. But it was filled with a drink that resembled air, sloshing around freely through the container like a smoking fire.

"What'll it do ta me, ya -"

"Two faced sloth? Devil's spawn? Calling me names will get you and your family no where, dearie!"

Merida still wasn't amused.

"Immortality." Lady Gothel finally answered, eyes rolling as she sang-songed her way to Merida, along with her feet as she pranced behind the Princess like a baby doe. The redheaded warrior stood her ground when the witch's fingers snagged to her shoulders. "Or, somewhat. Long enough that plans will be made on schedule."

"Plans? Whatya up to?" The redhead whipped around, but Gothel was gone, and the vile bobbed up and down in the air.

No. She would not do it. She would not just drink -

_"Merida!_" One of her brother's sobbed on the wind, twisting her heart into a painful knot. Oh, she couldn't take it; she had to save them, thinking irrationally, and when there was another pained wail, grabbing the potion, she closed her eyes, opened her mouth -

She made a horrible gagging noise as she swallowed all of the liquid ice down, dropping to her knees like a sac of flour. Her every vein felt frozen, caked in sloshing water, blood stopping in flow. She couldn't breath, couldn't _breathe_, and she felt it in her rib cage as her heartbeat slowed so considerably, she expected a fast death. She'd been tricked; this was no forever life - this was a fast end.

But, it never came.

She could still feel her skin burn in the sun, and she still needed breath.

The only thing that had changed was the ticking of her heart.

That, and the fact that as she turned to the sound of her brothers crying, she saw them looking around for_ her_. A smile formed. She was alright. Nothing had happened. The witch's potion hadn't worked.

She waved to them, called out their names, but slowly, her grin dimmed.

Horror almost drowned her.

She couldn't be seen. They did not see her.

She was stuck, forever immortal, never to be seen.

She already felt something tap her shoulder: was it loneliness?

"Off you are, little ones!" Gothel's expression darkened, and without a seconds hesitation, the triplets split off. They would see that face, and one of a much darker sort, in their Nightmares for the rest of their lives.

Gothel was disappearing as well, like a final act in a show, but in the last second, she looked at Merida, straight in the eyes.

The Princess screamed in fury and tossed her dagger from it's ankle holster.

Gothel winked -

"_C'est la vie, Merida!"_

- and vanished into thin air.

The knife only soared, plunging straight into a tree.


	4. PROLOGUE IV: TOOTHLESS'S TALES

**FANTASTIC FOUR  
youknowitsmsrae**

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_A/N: Holy. Hell. On. A. High. Wire. _

_**33 reviews, and only 3 little PROLOGUES. NOT EVEN CHAPTERS, JUST PROLOGUES. LIKE - WHAT - WHAT EVEN -spazzes into the sunset-**  
_

_Omfg, you guys are fricken fan-TASTIC, and way too good to me. Thank you so, so, so, so, so much. I can't even, like, fathom how many emails I've gotten, full of reviewers and followers and favorites and GAH. Seriously, bbys, I love you all._

_And, because I love you all so much, I even leave you gifts. The first is a new chapter, aaaand: go to summerminch dot tumblr dot com /tagged/ff+edit and look for the Rise of the Tangled Brave Dragons post for the second! I worked hard on that right there, just to please you guys, so I hope you all love it!__  
_

_A little insight on this piece here: originally, I wasn't going to make a Hiccup Prologue, because it was extremely spoiler-y for the rest of the story, as I have this thing called a plot, and it needs to be followed. But, I figured out a way to give you all the information without giving_ too _much away. Therefore, here's Hiccup's Prologue story, and how he somehow has managed to become who he is today._

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_CS: Hiccup feels like he'll never be able to figure out how he became immortal, but if Toothless could talk, he would have all the answers._

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**PROLOGUE IV: TOOTHLESS'S TALES**

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"G'dnight, buddy."

_Do not think of me wrongly or any less weak or wise, but as strange as one might think it is for a Dragon of my magnitude to do, I myself do not find it any less intriguing as the next thought from the mind, that while he sleeps, I watch my person like a common lap-dog of modern day times._

_As normal, as he's done for a thousand years before this, he will undo his metal contraption booted up on his leg created from his own hand (many a-time has it broken, more than countable, and many times he's been forced to remake it's properties), hang it upon a tight enough branch on this forsaken tree, or any tree, in hopes that while we rest, that it does not slip. He will bury into the bark, or in other cases, my side, to keep warm, especially in this forsaken forest that never seems to thaw. Such as this night. __His choice, not mine, to stay here for a prolonged period of time, but I do not argue. There is a friend arriving here soon of importance to my person, and I will not take away his interaction with my distaste for the land I tread on._

_It has been just him and I for the longest time, he unable to seen by the world he still lives on, I just the same fate, however my faith in him is undoubted that one day we will be free of this curse.  
_

_It was not always like this, either, us, frozen, never aging, seemingly forever just the two of us in this state of mutual loneliness._

_At a time, before meeting my person, I honest did not believe any mortal could possibly stand by my side, and that human's were simply underneath my presence. I will admit to being a main source of Berk's terrorizing and death. However, he showed me otherwise, that everything I knew about_ his _world, was wrong,__ and for that, and many other times, I owe him and the people of the Earth, my loyalty, and my life._

_Yet, at that time, we were still simply flesh and bone, able to move and grow and _go_ at any moment. Morbid as it seems, there was always the thought of death that eased my screaming soul and guilty inner thoughts - one day, I would move on with my ancestors to something different, whatever lies beyond, good or bad, new or not. I know my person had the same thoughts as I, for he rambles when he is frustrated, or working._

_Which, he had been doing both the night our options were taken away._

_It was in Berk, another dark, heavy Winter, he was in the shop, I by his side, working on a new tail design (if I enjoyed the work of a piece, I would nudge it and him and he would scratch behind my ear and continue to put it together), until we were done. We even almost were that evening, ready to close up, until I heard the unfamiliar noise of something growing, and growling, on the wind. It wasn't fairly uncommon we were graced with the presence of a fellow Brethren Country arriving by waters, or Dragon whisking through the air, for difference, as Berk was the home of the infamous Hiccup, Dragon trainer of the Earth, my person, and I the only as they say 'tamed' Night Fury in existence with diplomacy between all Dragons._

_But, unnatural this noise was, and I had to investigate._

_My person scolded me for jumping onto the cluttered counter, and for my excessive leering out the window that resulted in knocking things out. He was even complaining something fierce about that Gober creature with his stories and his leg, but I paid him no mind, and instead stayed attentive to identify what was coming this way off the horizon's sable waters. I heard no shouting sailor nor flapping wings, and saw no mast or fire breath, but instead, there was a horrible, tumbling, sifting noise, like a shadow on the ground, as if shadows could _move _without fueling light,_ _and make a noise at that_.

_But there was something approaching, whatever it may be, and I couldn't help but wonder what it was. _

_Until proven safe, it was a threat, and I would have perished before I let anything hurt the people of Home._

_So, tumbling out the window, I bit a snarl down in my chest, a warning hum for any sort of human, or not, that this was not _their _territory to invade, and I was here to make very well sure it was understood._

"Toothless, shut it, will ya'?" _I must have been making more noise than I originally realized, like a silly little guard dog, and not a fierce warrior as I was, and still am, as my person had brushed his oil slicked hands off on a rag made of sheep wool, dropped everything except his latest sword, and had hobbled from inside the shop, warm by the fire, to the open, where it was unsecured, unsafe, and frosty. I gave him a very zesty look to return to the cabin, however with no voice but my eyes and mute mumbling, he continued closer beyond my wishes. _

_A part of me to the day still wonders if he would have gone away if I had really _said_ anything anyways._

_It only took a moment, but my person reached my side long enough to lock a hand onto the metal bindings on my back that were comfortably keeping my tail piece on, saddle constructed to my scales. Not aggressively, but wondrously, his fingers moved from those pieces to my exposed neck; he was searching the tumbling waters like I was, unsure of what the strange cloud coming forward was._

"What in the -"

_He was unable to finish his sentence, for this cloud had morphed and shaped and changed and moved into a straight line of, of,_ somethings._ To the day, I have yet to really see anything else like it, however, I have my theories on what it might of been, after hearing the story the Winter Spirit we are searching for in this dinky little tree grove. Though my person has no recollection of what I have seen and remember from that evening, I recognized them immediately from the tales:_

_Nightmares._

_The cloud was no more than 6 galloping Mares, things I have preyed on some times before, yet, quite different as well. They were no average animals, if the flying over water confirmed that any more than normal. They sifted and moved and changed, like smoke and ash and sand into one, then six, and were twice the size of a normal deer. Yet they came at us with the force of a thousand Viking men, and without haste, plunged my person and I to the dirt. I do recall braying in an obnoxious way for the fear and safety of my human, forget me, having strange hallucinations of his death and mine, but when it all calmed, and my eyes opened, I was strapped to a wooden bench, wings encased, muzzled for the second time of my existence._

_I hate muzzles, the nasty things._

"Wonderful little thing you are, dearie."

_I have hated the woman since, whoever she was, who pat my head twice, as if I was a little girl. She had simply begun pulling the straps around my body tighter, and then sashayed away off to her master like a cheap prodigy. Dark hair dripping to her hips, cloak the color of ebony, she was what the human's called 'a catch'. _

_In my opinion, she looked rather green and unnerving, with that nervous little laugh, rather than anything I would consider mating with._

_Now, I did not struggle in the beginning, as there was no lower a point than when a dragon is caged. For years before that evening, it had been a truth among my kind, and has even gotten a Dragon exiled by his own from it. So I stayed still, waiting, watching, mindlessly plotting my revenge._

_I did not dwell on that thought of mutiny that night, and instead, focused my attention instead to what the woman was doing rather than how I would turn her to a furious ash for harming me and my person. From underneath a screeching Mare, she yanked my person out from underneath it's heavy steel toes, dragging him across the grassy hearth towards another shadow that manifested from no where. He was bleeding, my person, bruised, and his metal leg was dented in an unnatural way that made me want to yelp._

_I will also admit to my squirming and snarling by that point; I'm sure I sounded like a beast in a trap more than a Dragon with a soft heart for the human who changed my life._

"Good work, Gothel. Bring me him."

_This man I _have _seen after that night, unfortunately so. In legends, in books, in movies, books, poems, and even some rituals. His name is not spoke of in the human world seriously: he, there, is a comical Mr. Boogeyman who was known to leave children screaming after he has been found hidden away underneath their beds. At least, that is, until they outgrew their fear of the dark. _

_Dangerous? Yes. Feared? No._

_I know better than to make jokes, on the contrary._

_If only I could _speak.

"This is truly who He has chosen to be a savior?"

_I did not know what he meant, who the man was spoken of, nor did, or do, I want to, as my pawing became frenzied and my 4 hearts began pounding in unison, yet at rapid pace. Dark liquid, horrible Dragon blood had pooled where the metal scratched at my scales from all parts of my body. But I simply did not _care, _as she hauled my person to his feet, struggling to keep his unconscious body upright._

"A teenage _boy? _He is no better than the girl!" _The Boogeyman was less than gentle as he moved his companion out of the way, fingers locking in my person's shirt like he was ready to rip him to pieces. His ice white fingers looked oddly transparent against the green cover of Hiccup's body. But he, Pitch Black, didn't hurt him, and instead, studied instead, like a page from a book that needed to be learned. "_Ah, well," _I had once more begun to growl and howl when the bony fingers of his left hand began to glow, no longer white, but black as night, filled with fire that was as dark as his heart,_ "he would not be my first choice, but I do not get to choose, do I?"

_What he did next is almost not __explainable, for I have yet to figure what it really was. One moment, he was holding the limp Hiccup up in one hand, the other drawn back, as if to strike him in the gut, but instead of his hand breaking a rib on impact like I had first expected, it went straight through my person's body, lodging into what I realized later was his heart. What he did, what he planted, is still a mystery, and, for all reasons, is to why Hiccup is still the way he is today._

_I wondered, after that night, if I had suffered the same fate, and I realize I had, for in my time unconscious, I had been the experiment before the experiment the one called 'Gothel' had attempted the spell on._

_And that was it. He and I, my person and I, were cursed._

"My, my, how will we ever get enough Nightmares to stomp that out of him?" _Pitch's teeth gleamed in triumph when he pulled his fingers out of my person's chest, listening to his excited partner gloat. I cannot tell you what I was doing at that point, for I will not allow myself to give you those mental images of my weakness._ "You planted that straight in the heart, didn't you?"

"Don't worry. The day will come where we will have a soldier." _The Boogeyman turned to his woman now, hands soft on her shoulders. She gazed back at him in pure awe, as if all she saw was him._ "Now, it is time to go into hiding, my dear. I will send for you when the day is upon us."

_They had vanished then, gone, like they had never been there in the first place. My person had awoken a short time after that, after I had broken free, disposed of that disgusting machine, and licked the blood from his wounds affectionately. I could still hear his heartbeat as he slept, strong and steady, but there was something strange about it - it had slowed considerably. I myself noticed two of my own hearts had completely stopped, the others working _overtime _to keep everything going._

_To this day, we are this way, both stuck. So many questions, so little answers, but we have made it a thousand years together. I'm sure we could make it just as many more; even if we were both frozen._

_Quite literally; the temperature was dropping yet again._

_I would make it apparent to burn a Mr. Jack Frost's butt as soon as we found the blasted little man._

_But that, is an adventure for another time._


End file.
